


Find a Way

by meglioseoravai



Series: Avengers: Endgame - Crossover [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Coping, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Feels, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:23:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meglioseoravai/pseuds/meglioseoravai
Summary: Jungkook lives through the aftermath of Thanos' Snap.





	Find a Way

**Author's Note:**

> Big spoilers ahead! Beware!
> 
> Please enjoy.

You wouldn’t notice it without going out. You wouldn’t if you lived alone, if you weren’t watching the news or if your phone was on mute. If you were sleeping after a twelve hours shift. You wouldn’t notice. It takes time for Jungkook to realize, then it creeps on him slowly like mist on a November morning. It never leaves. He can’t believe it at first, but _ who _ can? It’s all he hears, all he sees in the streets, in the empty houses, in the deserted supermarkets, in all the closed shops barricaded with wooden planks over the broken windows. Weeks pass, he still can’t wrap his head around it.

Seoul is a ghost city, all the world is the same. Half of them is not there anymore, the others struggle to keep going, to cope with what is left. Emptiness, uncertainty, pain. Loneliness and grief. Everyone cries. Jungkook cries and gets mad. At the unfairness of it. At the crashing tragedy that it is. He breaks Jimin’s favorite mug against the wall when he goes back again to his apartment because you never know, what if they came back? What if they never really left? What if the Avengers are wrong, what if Thanos was just kidding, hahahaha? He finds the apartment covered with a finger of dust. Jimin’s MacBook still open on the kitchen counter. His socks under the bed. Jimin is really gone. 

He stops eating for two days. What’s the point? What’s the point now that he’s alone, now that there is a hole big almost 4 billion people in his guts? And he’s not even thinking about the animals. About the puppies he was nursing with love, little bundles of warmth and drops of milk. About his dogs back at home. The dolphins, the pandas, the birds. All gone in 50/50. 

It’s a dangerous gamble. Some people are luckier than others. Jungkook’s coworker only lost some friends, the neighbors at n.12 still have both kids. Yoongi hyung has his parents and his brother. But Jungkook only has Yoongi hyung. He ended up with the shorter stick, it seems like. It burns when he meets the neighbors’ kids in the hallway. It’s extremely painful when he lays down back at night and can’t help but think  _ why _ ? Why not even one? His mom or his dad. Jimin. Taehyung. One of the puppies. Only one, to fill the bottomless void, the black and twisting ache that renders him breathless, sleepless, restless.  

So it hits hard when the only person he has left sits him down on the couch, a grey Sunday afternoon. 

He’s moving back to Daegu.  

“My grandparents had a farm there. My parents got hold of it. I think -  _ we _ think it might be smart to make our own food, now that we don’t know what is going to happen.” Yoongi looks at him steadily, hands clasped on his lap. “I will get transferred there, help my parents on the weekends.”

Jungkook bobs his head up and down, eyes glued to the floor.

“It’s a good idea,” he manages to say, strangled. He can survive by himself, he thinks. He still has his job, he still has a bed where to sleep. He will survive. He will. He will. His vision blurs, the hold on his throat tightens until he can’t breathe. He starts crying. It’s only the second time that day, silent, big fat tears running down his cheeks and falling on the floor.

He hears a stilted sigh but he doesn’t look up. He blabbers the few things that come to his mind.

“I heard Daegu is beautiful in summer! Maybe I can visit sometimes!” He laughs but it’s a pathetic and wet sound. He can’t stop crying. “I bet you won’t miss Seoul. You never liked the city anyway…”

He would have kept on going, words filling his mouth because he can’t handle the silence that would follow otherwise. A hand stops him, halting him in mid-sentence. It’s warm on his head, it pats him as Jungkook would do with senior, more delicate dogs. 

“You silly kid. You didn’t let me finish,” Yoongi says, gruff and hoarse like he has been crying too. The hand cups him at the nape, shakes him, holds tight then lets him go. “Come with me. Come with me to Daegu.”

And Jungkook does.

 

**

 

Jungkook resigns from work, packs and gets on Yoongi’s car a mere week after. The rear seats are full to the roof with suitcases, books, and clothes that couldn’t fit otherwise. With Taehyung’s guitar and Jimin’s first ballet shoes, the one he always kept hidden in the back of his wardrobe. There’s Namjoon’s collection of vinyls, Hoseok’s Pokemon plushes and the old diaries where Seokjin used to write his recipes. Jungkook hates Seoul now and will not miss it, he said goodbye to the empty walls of their friends’ apartment, not even sure of what will happen to them, but he can’t bear to leave everything behind. Yoongi must feel the same because he’s the one showing up with Namjoon’s vinyls and Seokjin’s recipes, quietly placing them beside Hoseok’s favorite Pikachu.

They barely talk but they both cry as they slip inside the barren highway. Yoongi is composed, face white and solemn at the steering wheel, sparse tears sliding down in transparent trails. Jungkook sobs loudly and painfully, a pressure in the chest, unable to control himself now that they’re really doing it, really alone, just the two of them. Yoongi doesn’t say anything, not even then, just turns on the radio, fishes something from the rear seats with one hand, gives him Pikachu. That’s how it goes. Jungkook holding Pikachu in his arms, pressing it against his face like it’s the only thing that can possibly save him from utter, terrible grief. 

They arrive later that day. Yoongi's parents hug him like their own son. Jungkook tries hard not to think of his own family, then, afraid he would start crying again and never stop. It's nearly impossible.

“We’re happy you are here,” Yoongi's mom says as he helps her cooking dinner. She tells him that Jimin and Taehyung’s mothers decided to live together, that their neighbors gifted them a couple of cows, that Yoongi’s brother will arrive in a few days with the kids, planning to stay, planning to keep going on even if his wife disappeared. 

“This is the time we need to stick together.” Yoongi's mom smiles at him, only a hint of sadness in the curl of her lips. She caresses her arm, slow and tender, then gives him some more onions to cut.

“What do you want to do now?” Yoongi’s father asks him that night, as they gather around the table. 

“I’m not sure.” Jungkook shrugs. He knows Yoongi got transferred to Daegu Police Department and he knows that he will stay with him in his parents’ old apartment, in the city. He figures he can help here at the farm with the animals, at least, and learn everything else. He doubts anyone needs a vet at times like this. He tells the man so.

“We always need some strong young boy, around here.” Yoongi’s father seems happy at the idea, claps him on the shoulder. And it’s decided.

Life settles. Hard to think, really, that life can go on even split in a half. Jungkook wakes up every morning at 5. He takes a bus to the farm, tends to the animals and the fields, naps after lunch, follows Yoongi's father around in the afternoon and aids Yoongi's mother for dinner. Yoongi eats with them, then brings them both home if he has the day shift, drops Jungkook before going to work if he has the graveyard one. Yoongi's brother and nephews arrive two weeks after. There are at the same time more mouths to feed and more chores to do, but also less quiet, laughter, children music, tiny steps running through the house, the first few shy smiles on Yoongi's face. And Jungkook's face, too. The children are so young, so innocent, shielded from the harsh reality of their days, barely aware of what happened to their mother. The older one tells Jungkook he believes his mom will come back, the younger one is just a baby, blabbers and grasps at Jungkook's fingers, looks up at him with big almond eyes, laughs happily on his lap when Jungkook pretends he's a horse. 

He sees now why Yoongi's brother wants to go on, why he forces himself to. He has a reason to, in the warm tiny hands of his sons, in the way they search for him, the way they wait for him every evening as he comes back from work, happy to see him walk through the door. Jungkook envies him a little. It's childish and horrible, he knows. It twists his stomach uncomfortably, he can't help it. He has Yoongi and that's true, he has Yoongi's family who welcomed him with open arms. But there's also the silence in the apartment when they go back to Daegu, the darkness of his room at night. The ballet shoes of baby Jimin, the Pikachu on his bed. The vinyls they still haven't unpacked, the guitar they don't know how to play, the recipes that will always lie unused because they both suck at cooking. The pictures of his mom and dad he can barely glimpse at. The list could go on forever. The loudest absence, however, is his phone. Before it would ring with his mother's calls, with Jimin's messages, with the memes Taehyung would send on their group chat. Now no one calls, no one looks for him. Yoongi doesn't need to, they live together. There's no one else left who would, too. 

 

**

 

It's not because something big, something heartbreaking happens that Jungkook finally snaps. It's more or less the accumulation of small trivial things. Iron Man is found alive but empty handed and defeated. Thanos dies. More and more concerning news comes from North Korea, rumors of revolution and bloody repressions. One of the cows is not producing milk. Yoongi's nephew has a temper tantrum, refuses to eat his congee, slams the bowl and manages to hit Jungkook in the chest with it. In the startled silence that follows, Jungkook glances down at his sweater. It was a present from Seokjin, that's what his staggering thoughts offer. It's just a sweater and congee doesn't stain, he tries to convince himself later in the bathroom, washing the sweater away with handfuls of water that leave it soaked. Jungkook is cold, refuses again and again mama Min’s offers of clean and dry clothes. He wants to keep it, he wants to run his hands over it, remember the way Seokjin laughed when he gave it to him. 

“It looks big now, but you'll grow into it,” Seokjin had said. Jungkook was 17. 

He treasured the sweater for years, unaware it would become so important. A memory, a memento, a heavy pressure on his ribs that makes him cry as soon as he's alone that night. He's tired of crying, but he's even more tired of feeling hopeless, feeling like he has no reasons to wake up in the morning, no reasons to sleep and eat and wash himself and smile and talk and generally exist. 

He must be louder than usual, or maybe there's a different quality to the way he's crying now, all curled up hiding under his blankets. Maybe it sounds as desperate as he feels, like he could disappear tomorrow and not even regret it. Dissolve into dust, like everyone else. Everything else. It didn't look painful. Not as painful as this, anyway. 

A noise reaches him, stops him from shaking sobs. The turning of the door handle, soft steps, a weight sagging beside him on the bed. Hands tug at the blankets, uncover him, pull him against a smaller chest.

“It’s ok.” A murmur on his hair. “You will be ok.”

“Will I?” Jungkook asks, a rush of new tears escaping his eyes. “Will we?”

“Yes.” Yoongi hugs him tight, smaller body fitting so well on his side, the familiar scent of his shampoo filling Jungkook from within, smoothing for a moment the sharper corners of his aching soul. “Yes, yes, we will.”

 

**

 

Yoongi and Jungkook have always been the most awkward amidst their group of friends. Jimin was Jungkook's best friend, Taehyung coming immediately after. In the second year of high school, Taehyung met Namjoon, fell in love with his music first, with the dimples framing his smile after. Namjoon brought with himself Seokjin and Hoseok, then Yoongi. Jungkook was 16 when they started hanging out, he’s 25 now that it’s only him and Yoongi.  

Not that he doesn’t like the man, he genuinely does. Yoongi is caring, a solid rock in the worst storms. He’s quiet and introspective but reached out to the others before, sometimes to Jungkook, too. Hoseok was his favorite, their personalities completing each other like two perfect soulmates. Hoseok used to joke about it, saying Yoongi was his perfect half. Their friendship didn’t change as Hoseok dated women, choose The One and moved in with her. If anything, it made it stronger, a pillar of certainty in their group. Everything could happen, even the end of the world, but Yoongi and Hoseok would stay. Then this happened and the rest is history. Yoongi lost his other half. Hoseok’s girlfriend disappeared, too. At least they’re together. 

Sometimes Jungkook wonders if Yoongi wished he was Hoseok, instead, like sometimes, briefly and feeling extremely guilty after, Jungkook desperately wishes for Jimin or Taehyung. Jungkook likes Yoongi hyung, but they don’t flow effortlessly like Yoongi and Hoseok or Jungkook and Jimin. They’re tentative, always have been, perpetually testing borders, still asking with small gestures and glances if  _ this is alright, can I do this _ ?

The first time Yoongi doesn’t ask is that night. He sleeps together with Jungkook, two bodies squeezed in one bed, holding each other with the same fierceness they would with a buoy in the open ocean. It doesn’t change after. He stays. Yoongi grasped him as he was standing on the precipice, he doesn’t let go.

 

**

 

“Are you happy at the farm?” 

The question makes Jungkook looks up from his crosswords. It’s late in the evening, there’s a warm breeze coming through the windows. The lights are off because they need to save energy, so Jungkook meets Yoongi’s eyes over the flame of a vanilla-scented candle. Its smell is too sweet.

“Your family is nice,” he settles for. 

Yoongi tsks, tongue clicking against the palate. After two years in each other’s pockets, Jungkook is pretty sure it means Yoongi’s patience is running thin. He had a bad day at work, he’s tired. A crude consequence of losing half of the world population is that those who remained changed drastically. The good became better, the bad people became worse. Jungkook sees only cows, sheeps and chickens on a daily basis, but Yoongi deals with the scum of the scum. He’s a strong man, one of the strongest Jungkook has ever known. Jungkook couldn’t do it.

“It’s ok,” he says, more honestly. He shifts his legs on the floor, looking for a cooler spot against his skin. “I don’t mind the hard work.”

He’s bulkier than before but he likes that. His hands are all calloused and he has a knot of tense muscles in his lower back that doesn’t go away, no matter how hard he tries. It’s ok, really. It’s not like he envisioned his life to be but none of this is. He’s alive, he’s getting better.

“I’m asking if you’re happy, not if you’re ok,” Yoongi replies. He stands from the couch, plops down beside him on the floor. 

Jungkook knows him well at this point. He can decipher every little expression, every tint of the lips, every movement of his body. The same can be said for Yoongi, though. The older man is sly, realized long ago how to break him in the sweetest way and mold him back again in one, fuller shape. This time he takes Jungkook’s hand in both of his. It’s clammy because the air is hot but that doesn’t relent him. Jungkook observes as Yoongi starts massaging the pressure points, humming gently under his breath. It doesn’t hurt. Jungkook actually likes it a lot, likes the attention and the closeness, the scent of Yoongi’s shampoo. The touches that started two years ago and grew bolder and more frequent. Yoongi knows he likes it, Yoongi knows him better than anyone now. 

“I miss dogs,” he hears himself saying after a while. He closes his eyes in bliss, relaxing his head back against the couch. “I miss my job.”

“Uhm,” Yoongi murmurs, voice soothing and low. “Why don’t you send your CV to some veterinary clinics, then?”

“Your parents need me.”

“My parents are doing quite well now that they joined the neighbor association.”

“Who’s gonna take care of the cows?”

The massage moves from one hand to the other.

“Mr. Park can do that. They all work together now. You know it.”

Of course, Jungkook knows. He's the one who taught Mr. Park and Mr. Lee how to handle cattle. It doesn’t change the fact that Yoongi’s parents still need him. What if one of the animals gets sick? He asks Yoongi the same.

“If that happens they can call Jungkook the vet and not Jungkook the farmer.”

Jungkook scowls and yet doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t shift away. Yoongi is now kneading the muscles of his arms and he doesn’t want to move and ruin it. 

“There’s nothing wrong in being a farmer,” he murmurs.

“No,” is the man’s quick reply, “if you were happy doing it.” 

A pregnant pause, then: 

“It’s been two years, Jungkook. You  _ can _ be happy.”

They’re delving into dangerous territory, they both feel it, but the older man moves behind him, opens his arms and legs, welcomes Jungkook into his hug. Jungkook leans back into him without the hint of a thought. This is more natural than breathing now. The tension melts away before it can really affect them, Yoongi’s fingers sinking into his shoulders. 

Jungkook exhales, relaxes. Maybe he’s not happy at the farm, but these moments come prettily close to it.

“Are you happy, hyung?” he asks as the silence stretches and all they can hear is the sound of cicadas.

“Sometimes.” Yoongi’s breath is warm against the skin of his temple. “Sometimes I am.”

 

**

 

It takes more time for Yoongi to break him. They’re lying in bed one day, enjoying the cooler air of the thunderstorm outside. They let all the windows open, curtains slamming with the wind, fat drops of rain wetting the floor. They couldn’t care less. Yoongi is kissing his face, his cheeks, lazy and tender, peppering him with small pecks all over. Jungkook lays passive, loving it beyond words. They haven’t kissed on the lips yet but it will come soon, he knows it because he sees Yoongi staring at his mouth all the time. He probably stares at his with the same dedication. He’s enough of a man to admit it. He looks forward to it, to be honest. He looks forward to all the other things they could do together, too.

“I think I will do it,” he says out of nowhere. Yoongi leans on an elbow, looks down at him with wet lips. He immediately understands what he’s talking about. 

“You should.”

“But your parents?” Jungkook needs to insist. 

Yoongi kisses him on the lips. Here it is. It steals Jungkook’s breath away, happening without warning, sooner than he expected. Yoongi kisses him, delves inside his mouth with abandon. It lasts forever and nothing at all.

“We will find a way,” he murmurs, then kisses him again. 

The way is that Jungkook works for the clinic near home from Monday to Thursday, then helps mama and papa Min from Friday to Sunday. It’s a good compromise. Jungkook feels like he’s meant to be with animals, helping them, tending to them, curing them. He also doesn’t want to stay too long away from the farm. The nephews would miss him. He needs to check on the cows. 

“Are you singing, Kookie?” Mama Min asks him one Sunday morning, the cloudy sky a promise for colder days to come. She ruffles his hair. “It’s the first time I hear you.”

“You’re smiling more,” Yoongi tells him over a shared beer. “I like it.”

And it’s true, he’s happier and everyone around him seems to get happier in return, too. That’s why he takes a gamble when he brings Horsey home and lets him sit on the couch as they wait for Yoongi to come back from work. Jungkook has already made dinner, instant noodles because he still sucks at cooking, and the spicy smell of it makes him want to sneeze. 

The expression on Yoongi’s face when he stumbles through the door is the funniest thing he has ever seen. He laughs so hard he falls on himself on the floor.

“What the hell is that thing?” The man walks inside with wide eyes and tentative steps like he’s afraid Horsey will attack him otherwise. But Horsey is the goodest boy of all, the only reaction he has at the new person is an excited wag of his tail.

“He’s a dog, hyung,” Jungkook answers, willing his laugh down. He wipes the corner of his eyes. “His name is Horsey because… well, he’s big.”

“No kidding,” Yoongi deadpans.

Horsey is a black and white Great Dane. He’s currently taking all the couch but he’s also very thin and malnourished, one of the many abandoned or forgotten pets of Daegu. He’s a very difficult case to place in a foster home and he’s so big they can’t possibly keep him forever in the clinic. He tells Yoongi everything, not failing to include all the pitiful details. He hopes for the best, that Yoongi will accept and they’ll keep Horsey, and he can see from the way the man tentatively pats at dog’s head that he’s already warming up to him. 

He insists a bit more, whines, drops on his knees and pulls at Yoongi’s uniform. He knows the moment the older man gives up, eyes rolling up.

“Fine, fine, you silly kid. But change the damn name, Horsey is horrible.”

Jungkook kisses his hands and knuckles from where he’s still kneeling.

“Thank you, hyung, thank you!” He smiles up at him, big and bright. Yoongi’s facade crumbles as they lock eyes. There’s something warm and fuzzy there now, something that makes Jungkook’s insides twirl. It’s not unpleasant, just very intense. It makes him break in another giggle, cheeks flushing red.

Horsey becomes Cesar. 

“It’s more dignified than the stupid name you gave him,” Yoongi scoffs. He buys the dog a bed, two big bowls and half-dozen of balls and squishy toys. It’s safe to say Yoongi learns to love the dog in less than one week. He’s the one who walks Cesar at night and he looks so small compared to the dog Jungkook finds it ridiculous and endearing at the same time.  

He finds them napping together one day after his shift ends. Yoongi was home from work, so Jungkook kinda expects for him to take it easy and rest. But it’s five in the evening, they’re soon going to have dinner at the farm and yet, instead of preparing himself to leave like he’s supposed to, Yoongi is curled around their big dog in their not so big bed. It’s a sight to behold, so cute and rare, and Jungkook snaps a picture without thinking twice. He opens Kakaotalk with the same happy, carefree mood, for then everything crashing back at him. Who he was going to send the picture to?

The Min’s don’t really use their phones. His coworkers chat with Line. All the people he has on Kakaotalk has been dead for a while. It hits him like a punch in the stomach. There’s no one out there who could receive this picture, have a good laugh with him, say  _ Yoongi hyung looks really serene, here. It’s nice to see you happy. We miss you. We love you. _

No one. 

Jungkook cries like he hasn’t in a while. It wakes Yoongi and Cesar. Yoongi pries the phone from his hand, picture unsent in the old group chat no one has used for almost three years. 

They cruddle close, the three of them, misery dampening the air. They all share the same past, the same scars. Abandoned creatures, cut in a half. Forever destined to go on because there’s nothing else they could do than trying again, day by day, to live.

“You could still send it,” Yoongi murmurs at him, cradling his face in his hands, wiping the tears that can’t stop with his thumbs. His voice breaks. “Maybe they’ll see it one day.”

It’s hours later, pain always there but faded a bit in the distance now. He can scroll at the group chat without bawling his eyes out again, but there’s still a twinge, an ache that will never go away as he presses send. 

 

**

 

Jungkook doesn’t stop. One message becomes one hundred. Then one thousand. Jungkook texts to himself, to numbers that are probably dead somewhere with their owners. It’s still soothing, somehow. To talk to them, to share about Yoongi and Cesar. And then Brutus and Augustus. 

 

_ I can accept Augustus _ , he tells them,  _ but Brutus? Yoongi hyung must know the story, right? I just don’t want my dogs to stab each other in the back.  _

 

Then he shares the pictures of the two new rescues, Brutus the whiny Shiba and Augustus the golden retriever. 

 

_ Our apartment is suddenly so small. But Yoongi loves them. I call him daddy when I talk to the dogs. He seems to like that, too.  _

 

He starts telling them everything. He even imagines how they would answer, when they would laugh, when they would make fun of him or comfort him.

 

_ He saw your mom, Jimin. She’s always the same. Always so beautiful. She told me to keep your ballet shoes. _

 

_ Today it was difficult. I don’t know why. It just was.  _

 

_ Sometimes it feels like I’m learning to live without a lung.  _

 

_ Yoongi cried himself to sleep tonight. He misses you. It broke my heart... _

 

_ Today was good. We watched a movie in the theatre. It has been ages since the last time. Maybe the world is becoming normal again.  _

 

_ North Korea proclaimed itself a republic!!! We’re not unified, but at least we’re all free.  _

 

_ Yoongi and I have been together for more than two years. We don’t even know the exact date. I insist it’s the day we first kissed but he says it’s when we slept together for the first time. Not sex, guys!!! I mean, just sleeping. Cuddling. He says he has been loving me since then.  _

 

_ I would marry him if I could.  _

 

_ I told him so, yesterday. He laughed at me. Can you imagine it??!?? I was like, what the fuck hyung, I’m serious. So today we went to dinner at the farm, he dropped to one knEE IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. He had a RING!! HE BOUGHT IT ONE MONTH AGO!! A FUCKING RING!! He told me he wants to marry me, fuck South Korea. Let’s go to Taiwan or England or wherever and get married. I’m quoting him here. So we’re going. Next summer. We just need some more time to get the money for the trip. We want to take one month vacation, make it big and fancy.  _

 

_ Today it’s five years without you. I’ll never stop missing you, will I?  _

 

**

 

It ends as it began. If you can consider it an ending. Jungkook worked a double shift yesterday, he sleeps through it all. He wakes up at five in the morning because his phone keeps ringing and ringing, breaking the veils of his sweet dreams. The first thought that crosses his mind as he startles awake and stumbles to grasp his phone is that something happened to Yoongi at work. It freezes the blood in his veins. But the phone lights up. Again and again and again, vibrating in his hands like the little thing has gone crazy. There are two hundred messages on Kakaotalk, fifty missed calls. It’s not Yoongi. Jungkook doesn’t know how it’s possible because it’s his mom, his dad, it’s Jimin’s id and Taehyung’s. Namjoon called and Hoseok and Seokjin. Messages keep flooding in.

 

_ Jungkook! _

 

_ Jungkook, answer!  _

 

_ What the fuck happened, guys?!?  _

 

_ Watch the news! _

 

_ We’re here. _

 

_ Yoongi hyung, Yoongi hyung, Yoongi hyung.  _

 

_ We’re here, Jungkook.  _

 

_ We love you, we missed you. Our little maknae. _

 

_ Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook! _

 

Jungkook stares, unbelieving, mouth open in shock. Someone calls, he can’t see who. His vision is blurry, tears are crossing his face and he’s still not sure why. But someone is calling. Someone is calling him. He accepts the call, swipes it right. He brings the phone to his ear, he’s trembling so bad he grasps it with both hands.

“Hello?” he murmurs, uncertain, heart in his throat. 

From the other side, an exhale, a breathy laugh. A voice. 

“Jungkook!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think ;)


End file.
